


Irrevocably Bound

by vix_spes



Series: Into The Unknown 'verse [13]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Bonding, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-19 10:52:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11896236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: With Q's heat upon them, so is the time of Q and Bond's bonding.





	1. Q's POV

**Author's Note:**

> The last prompt from the MI6 Spectre challenge - 'forever'. Whilst this is the last prompt, I'm definitely not abandoning this verse. If anyone has anything they'd like to see, let me know and I'll see what I can do!

Q knew it the second that he woke up.

There was a familiar prickling under his skin that signified an impending heat. It may have been a long time since his last heat but the sensation was undeniable. At best, Q had two days before his heat hit properly and he had an awful lot of things to do in preparation. One thing that he was inordinately grateful for was the fact that Bond had completed his mission in the early hours of that morning and was currently on his way back to London. All being well – and assuming that Bond didn’t do anything stupid – he would be home before Q’s heat hit properly. Having an idea as to what lay ahead, Q decided to indulge himself and made his morning tea in a mug that more resembled a bucket than a cup rather than his usual travel mug; he had lists to write.

Once they’d presented in their mid-teens, most omegas tended to have heats every three to four months. It was entirely up to the individual how they spent it; they could either find an alpha once they were of age, they could deal with it themselves with the help of sex toys or, they could use suppressants. Q had been singularly uninterested in sex when he was a teenager; he was only interested in his computers, in his work. He had dealt with his heats by himself with the help of a knotting dildo that he’d ordered online. They had been regular, perfectly normal and Q had viewed them as an annoyance that forced him to take his attention away from his work.

Now, Q was something of an anomaly these days, an outlier to what was usually expected of omegas.

Q had had regular heats when he had first presented but, as he had grown older, they had decreased in regularity and become difficult to predict. Most of it was his own fault. It was commonly acknowledged that, in order for an omega to have regular heats and for those heats to be fertile enough for the omega to conceive, then said omega needed to look after themselves. Q was possibly one of the worst people when it came to this. Q’s idea of nourishment was a plentiful supply of Earl Grey, occasionally supplemented with take-away when he remembered; not exactly ideal. It hadn’t helped that back before MI6 had recruited him, back when he was a poverty stricken student, Q had agreed to participate in several medical trials on new suppressants. It had seemed like the perfect solution at the time. Q hadn’t been remotely interested in a relationship, far more interested in his work and perfectly willing to go to one of the local clubs if he had an itch that needed scratching, there was a potential vested interest in the outcome of the results and, besides, the money was good. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best idea that he’d ever had.

The irony wasn’t lost on Q that he was in better health now that he was in a relationship with Bond than he had been when he was still single. Part of that was due to the fact that Bond had not only insisted on taking Q to a multitude of restaurants while they were dating but had continued in doing so, even once they were in a relationship. Q was also fairly certain that Bond had either persuaded or terrified the minions into ensuring that Q ate on a regular basis; it was the only explanation that he could think of for the food that regularly made an appearance in his office when Bond was away on mission. Plus, he now had minions who were more than willing to be guinea-pigs for medical; there was no need for Q to do it himself.

Q had a feeling that it had to be this – the fact that he was in good health, as well-rested as he would ever be as Quartermaster, off suppressants and in a stable relationship with an abundance of sex – that his body had decided that it was time for his heats to resume regular service. For a minute, Q allowed himself to imagine what sharing a heat with James Bond would be like. Q had shared a heat with an alpha once when he was in his late-teens/early-twenties, just for the experience. The alpha in question had been an older man in Q’s department and, while the sex had been more than passable and it had been pleasant to have someone look after him, Q had found the whole thing to be a bit of a faff. Given the sporadic nature of his heats, it was just too much hassle and, ever since, Q had dealt with his heats by himself, holing up in his flat with takeaway menus and a large selection of sex toys.

Now, it was going to be different. Oh, so very different.

Q squirmed in his seat at the prospect of an entire heat spent with James. And not just heat, but bonding. Finally, after an extended period of what could only be described as courting followed by months of being in an established relationship, James and Q were going to bond. They were going to take that final step which would link them inextricably. Alpha and omega. Irrevocably bound.

Forever.

Bonding. A mate. It had never been something that Q had envisaged as part of his life. He’d never felt the urge like some omegas did. He’d certainly never expected to feel the urge with James Bond, of all people. Similarly, he’d never expected the legendary lothario 007 to be interested in bonding. Nonetheless, they’d discussed it numerous times, particularly since they’d moved in together, with both of them admitting that they wanted to bond, wanted the heightened connection that doing so would bring them. By mutual decision, they had agreed that the first heat that Q had – so long as Bond was in the country – they would bond.

Beyond anticipating the depth of connection between them that would come with a bonding, there was the sex.

Q was perfectly happy to admit that James’ reputation as a sex god was well-deserved. Not one of the alphas or betas that he’d slept with had been as good as James. Their sex life was amazing even when Q wasn’t in heat. Post-mission sex was even better, to the point where minion #12 couldn’t even approach Q’s office without looking like he was going to combust after walking in on Q sprawled over his desk while James ate him out, and the less that was said about what they’d got up to in the firing range the better. The testing labs were unsullied so far but they wouldn’t remain so forever.

 The sex may be the best Q had had to date but a minimum of three days of heat sex? Particularly heat sex that would be magnified by a bond? Well, suffice to say that Q was looking forward to the prospect, even if it was highly likely that he’d be walking bow-legged by the end of it. If he was capable of walking at all. And bonding on top of that? Grinning to himself, he pulled his laptop towards him. He had emails to send, the first of which was going to Tanner to inform him that Q was going to be completely out of action for the next week and that R was going to be in charge of Q-branch in his absence.

With that done, and anticipating a panicked phone call from Tanner as soon as he received said email, Q started to put together an online shopping order. Once upon a time, he would have made do with bottled water, Lucozade, cereal bars and maybe the odd Pot Noodle if he could drag himself from his bed. That wouldn’t fly with James Bond in his life and, while he may have been terrible at remembering to eat without someone there to pull his head from his work, Q had developed something of a taste for the food that Bond ate, especially when it was the stuff from the places that no-one would expect Bond to eat at.

Q had just managed to place his online order with Waitrose - James might be willing to eat from the chippy round the corner from Q’s flat or the Chinese place just down the road from his own flat, but Tesco was a definite no-go – and made a start on a list of things that he needed to discuss with R when his phone rang.

“Bill, I take it that you got my email?”

“What do you mean that you’re taking a week off?” Tanner’s voice was practically a screech. “006 is on a deep-cover mission, 008 and 009 are scheduled to go out and we’re supposed to be at that meeting with the Chief of Staff next Monday.”

“Did you even bother to read past the first sentence of my email?” Q didn’t bother to even try and hide the amusement in his voice as he moved into the bedroom and started to get dressed. For all that he was calm and competent in the most stressful of situations, Tanner didn’t do well when there was even the slightest possibility that he would have to do without Q. Q’s heat was truly going to be a test of Tanner’s sanity.

“No. Why?”

“Tanner, I’m in pre-heat. In a couple of days, I won’t be any good to anyone.” Q held his breath once the words had slipped out; this was the very reason that people had questioned putting an omega in the role of Quartermaster.

“Bond?”

“Completed his mission in the early hours, he’s on his way home as we speak.”

“Well that’s good for you. And for us; god knows that he only listens to you on the comms and even then there’s no guarantee. What about everything else?”

“I’m going to thoroughly brief R on the situation; she’s more than competent. Look, I’m on my way in now…”

“I’ll see you in your office at 1; I need to brief M. I’ll bring curry.”

Q chuckled as he grabbed a cardigan. “I’ll see you in a bit, Bill.”


	2. Bond's POV

Bond let out a small sigh as he slid into the town car that had been sent for him from MI6. He knew that, given the time of day, it was highly unlikely that Q would have been able to come and meet him at the airport but still, it would have been nice. The couple of occasions where he’d been greeted by Q in his ridiculous anorak waiting for him as he entered arrivals had spoiled him. He supposed that he’d become soft over the course of their relationship. Maybe not even soft. It was just nice to have someone to come home to. Of course, he’d had it briefly before with Tracy but that had been nothing like this. Then again, Tracy had been a beta so, as much as Bond had loved her, it was never going to be the same as it was between himself and Q. Even between him and Vesper, however brief. While couples made relationships work in every possible combination of alpha/beta/omega, there was just something about the relationship, about the mating bond that could be created, between alpha and omega that made it different, made it that much more special. No, many might view this as the legendary James Bond going soft but Bond knew the truth; no matter what he had said in the past, his relationship with Q wasn’t a weakness but a strength.

“Sir?”

“Hmm, what?” Bond looked up as the driver spoke to see that they’d come to a halt. “Oh, thank you.” With the time of day, the drive from Heathrow through London to the flat had taken no time at all. Gathering his bags from the boot, Bond greeted the doorman and then headed up the stairs.

The instant that he set foot inside their flat, James knew that there was something going on. The flat smelt differently. Ever since Q had moved in, it had been a perfect blend of the two of them. Now, it still smelt like them but there was an underlying sharpness to it, a tang that Bond had never smelt before. Moving into the kitchen, he found a note from Q lying on the table and everything finally made sense.

_James,_

_Not the best way to tell you but I’m in pre-heat. I’ve gone into Vauxhall to talk to Tanner and make arrangements for the next week or so. I’ve put a food order in with Waitrose and it’s due around lunchtime. I shouldn’t be far behind it._

_Love, Q_

Bond’s eyes read the whole note but his brain was caught on those two little words. Pre-heat. That was the sharp underlay to their combined scent that he hadn’t recognised; Q’s upcoming heat. He felt a thrum of anticipation race through his veins. Q was in heat, the first that he had had since they had started their relationship. Bond had seen a fair number of omegas through heats over the years and thus knew what was ahead of them. There were a multitude of differences between seeing an omega through a heat therapeutically and sharing a heat with an omega when you had the intention of bonding.

Bond couldn’t wait.

Sparing a glance at the clock, Bond estimated that he still had a bit of time before both Q returned home and the grocery order that he had placed was delivered. He didn’t doubt that Q had ordered all of the essentials but, this was going to be Q’s first heat in a very long time and he deserved to have the very best. Something that Bond was intent on giving him. Pulling out his phone, Bond placed one call followed by a second. He was going to start this as he meant to go on.

(~*~)

Several hours later, Bond was feeling as though he’d been successful. Q had returned home when he said he would, looking somewhat sheepish as he informed Bond that a visiting alpha on the staff of the Joint Chiefs had made a play for Q, refused to take no for an answer and been tased for his troubles. Bond couldn’t help but laugh at that – Q-branch were mostly betas and omegas while all of the MI6 alphas knew better than to go after Q – but, even though he knew that Q could take care of himself, he made a mental note to find out the alphas name. A little reminder on how to respect omegas, never made the bloody Quartermaster of MI-sodding-6, never got too old. The rest of the afternoon had been spent at Q’s beck and call, a role that Bond rather relished, even if Q didn’t want much. They had mostly spent it on the sofa with Q in one of Bond’s old Royal Navy sweatshirts, cuddled up watching black and white movies while Bond hand-fed Q chocolate and made copious cups of tea.

Dinner had been hand-delivered from Albannach, the restaurant where they had shared their first date, and though Q’s appetite was waning as his heat rapidly approached – now mere hours away – he allowed Bond to coax him into eating the full portion of steak and haggis as well as a good quantity of the fried potatoes that had come with them. Q had been far more enthusiastic – unsurprisingly – about the chocolate pudding, even going so far as to suck his fingers clean. The sight of Q sucking wantonly at his fingers had Bond hard within seconds, which had had Q dropping to his knees and sucking Bond’s cock into his mouth with a smirk, hollowing his cheeks as Bond spread his legs with a groan.

Loose-limbed from orgasm, Bond had tried to return the courtesy but Q had declined in favour of a bath, admitting that he felt out of sorts. Thus, they had spent the time before they retired ensconced in an indulgent scalding hot bath full of luxuriant bath oils, glasses of wine to hand as Bond ran his hands over Q’s skin as gently as he could, ostensibly under the guise of washing him but, in reality, trying to soothe and comfort Q as much as he could.

~*~

It was the early hours of the morning when Bond woke with a start. Reaching into the bedside table for the gun that he kept there after Q had vetoed him keeping one underneath his pillow as usual, he slowly sat up, ears straining for anything that sounded unusual. He couldn’t hear anything out of the ordinary but, even so, he couldn’t relax completely. Bond turned to look at Q and suddenly realised what it was that had woken him; Q had finally gone into heat properly. Whereas two hours ago, he had been still in his slumber, sated from not only dinner but several rounds of lovemaking, now he was restless, a faint sheen of sweat covering his skin as he tossed and turned among the sheets. Replacing his gun in the drawer, Bond slid from bed, not bothering to get dressed.

Moving into the kitchen, he grabbed several bottles of water before putting together a couple of plates of cheese, crackers, bits of meat, crudités and fruit; finger foods that would be easy for them to graze on when they needed to. Once he had knotted Q and they had bonded, there was no way of knowing how long they would be tied together and with the amount of energy that they would be expending, they would need to do what they could to keep their strength up. As an afterthought, he grabbed a few protein bars; he wasn’t particularly fond of them and Q bitched about the taste but they would do the job. Having done everything that he could, he headed back to bed, picking up a half-read novel from his bedside table. He probably wouldn’t take in a single word but all there was left to do now was wait.

He didn’t have to wait long.

Dawn was just starting to creep over the horizon when Q finally moaned Bond’s name, half-aware of what was going on. He had been restless for the last hour or so, more so than previously as the ripe scent of an omega in heat hung heavy and thick in the air.

“James!”

Bond hovered over Q, hands framing his face and forcing Q to make eye contact, even if Q’s eyes were more pupil than anything else. “Q, I’m here. tell me what you need.”

“I don’t know what I need,” Q was squirming against the sheets, fingers grasping at the fabric. “I just need. AH! You, James, I need you.”

“Okay, love. Just let me take care of you, okay?”

Q was burning up, struggling to focus properly, but Bond knew that both of those things had one simple cure and that was Bond’s knot. Even so, he didn’t want to simply knot Q and be done with the bonding. He wanted to ensure that Q received the maximum amount of pleasure from this whole experience. Q’s heat had the added advantage that his refractory period was infinitely shorter than normal and so, with that in mind and a smirk on his lips, Bond turned his attention to making Q writhe not only with need but with ecstasy as well.

Making his way down Q’s body, Bond left a trail of kisses, pausing briefly to tease and lap at peaked nipples before leaving a trail of gentle bites along Q’s ribcage. He sucked a livid mark onto one of Q’s hipbones before leaving an identical mark on the opposite hipbone and turning his attention lower. Wrapping his hands around Q’s hips, thumbs pressing into the marks that he had just left, he spread Q’s arse cheeks, taking in the sight and smell of the slick leaking from Q. Q’s thighs were glistening with the pungent fluid and the sheets beneath him were sodden. Dipping his head, he inhaled deeply, eyes flicking up to see Q’s head thrashing around on the pillows, keens ripping themselves from his throat.

When nothing more was forthcoming, Bond dipped his head and licked a broad swathe across Q’s hole, relishing the taste of his slick. He didn’t think he’d ever get sick of this. The taste, the scent of Q. It was irresistible. _Q_ was irresistible. Ever since the first time that he had done it since that first time in the gun range, he had taken every single opportunity he could to eat Q out. He never tired of how vocal Q was about his pleasure, the shrieks and expletives that ripped themselves from Q’s throat as Bond furled his tongue and delved as far into Q’s hole as he could. Loved the way that Q’s fingers clutched at his hair, that Q’s thighs tightened around his head like a vice, ensuring that Bond couldn’t move back, even if he wanted to. Doubling his efforts, Bond stabbed his tongue into Q, alternating between that, sucking and licking up all of the slick leaking from Q until Q came with an ear-piercing shriek, spurting all over his stomach.

Pulling back, wiping the excess slick from his chin and licking his fingers clean, Bond took in the sight in front of him. Q’s thighs were still glistening with his slick while his come covered his chest and quiescent cock yet he was still vibrating with need. It wouldn’t take much for him to become hard again and Bond knew it. Swiping his fingers through the mess on Q’s stomach, Bond slipped two fingers easily into Q and started to finger him open. Q’s cock started to fill out again as Q pressed back into Bond’s fingers, clearly desperate for more; something that Bond was more than happy to give him.

It didn’t take much encouragement for Q to turn over, so that he was on his hands and knees, back arched and presenting for Bond. Presenting for his alpha. Bond’s cock twitched in interested and he ran an appreciative hand down Q’s spine before pressing a kiss just above Q’s arse. He slipped three fingers into Q’s slick hole, giving Q’s arse a cursory stretch before replacing his fingers with his cock, letting the head catch on the rim of Q’s hole.

“I’m going to give you everything you need, Q. I promise, I’ll make this good for you.”

There was no response but Bond wasn’t expecting one. Instead, he started to press his cock into the tight warmth of Q’s arse, not stopping until his hips were pressed flush against Q’s upturned arse. There, he paused briefly to regain control over himself, pressing a kiss to the nape of Q’s neck. When Q pressed back against him, demanding more, Bond gave it to him. Pulling back slowly, he slammed back into Q before setting a punishing rhythm, knowing that it was what Q needed. The air around them thickened with their combining scents as Bond continued to thrust into Q, the omega responding as best as he could.

As he did so, he could feel his knot starting to grow, the base of his cock swelling with every movement. Q could clearly feel it as he spread his thighs even wider and canted his hips further, allowing Bond to thrust even deeper. Bond’s knot was catching on Q’s rim with every thrust now, Q moaning almost continually as it popped in and out, stretching Q that little bit more each time. And then it forced itself past Q’s rim one last time before it locked into place, filling Q completely and utterly.

As Q came with a scream, convulsing around Bond’s knot, Bond clamped his teeth down on that spot on Q’s neck that would bind them together forever, tasting the tang of copper flooding his mouth. Bond fucked Q through his orgasm, not able to do much more than rock his hips, grinding his knot into Q’s prostate as his own come spurted inside Q, filling him full of Bond’s seed. In one of Q’s next heats, this could be him fucking Q full of Bond’s pups and that thought made him growl, his cock pulsing again inside of Q.

Finally, when Q was trembling beneath him with aftershocks, Bond shifted them so that they were on their sides and in a more comfortable position to wait out the time until Bond’s knot deflated, Bond wrapped his arms more tightly around Q, smiling softly as Q let out a contented purr and settled further into Bond’s body. He felt contented in a way that he had never imagined and not just contented, but complete. It was a heady sensation, more so than any drug. As he moved position slightly, he jostled Q which resulted in Q’s internal muscles clamping down even tighter around Bond’s knot, Bond groaning in pleasure at the sensation.

They may be bonded but that wasn’t the end of Q’s heat. Not by a long shot. This satiation was only temporary. No, Q was going to have to be knotted multiple times before the need fully abated and Bond was fully expecting to be used and abused by the end of it all. He was also expecting a matching mating mark to the one that he had given Q.

He couldn’t wait.


	3. Epilogue

Q, woke to an aching body and an empty bed. Reaching out with one hand, he could feel that the bedsheets were still warm and, if he strained himself, he could hear movement in the kitchen; James was still here. Not that Q thought he wouldn’t be. Q smiled to himself as he stretched gingerly, the ache sending a delicious burn through him. Five days of near constant sex was nothing to be sneered at. Although every inch of him ached, Q’s neck _throbbed_ and he raised tentative fingers to cover the area.

The prickling sensation that had existed under his skin for the last five days had disappeared, only to be replaced by an … awareness of James that hadn’t existed previously. Lying in their bed, surrounded by the intertwined scents of himself and James, aware of James as clearly as he was aware of himself, Q couldn’t help but smile.

They were bonded.

The mark on Q’s neck stated James’ claim over him in blood and scar tissue, just as Q’s respective mark on James’ neck did. They belonged to each other. Alpha and omega bonded together forever. It was what Q had never envisaged for himself but, now that it had happened, he felt complete.

“You look rather pleased with yourself.”

Q looked up to see James stood in the doorway. He was wearing a pair of his fancy striped pyjama pants and looking far less dishevelled than Q felt. Biting back a moan, Q managed to haul himself into a sitting position with nothing more than a slight hiss, noting with interest – and no little hunger - the tray that Bond held as he did so. As Bond drew closer, Q frowned as he noted that none of the items on the tray were ones that he’d ordered. Well, he amended, some of them were but he certainly hadn’t ordered Wild Welsh Heather Honey or Thick-Cut Seville Marmalade let alone Bollinger champagne.

“Where did…”

“I put an order in with Fortnum’s the day that I returned. I know you said you’d put in the usual order but I figured something as special as our bonding deserved something more … celebratory.”

Q sniffed the air eagerly. “If you ordered from Fortnum’s did you…”

“Order an obscene amount of the over-priced tea that you love so much? Of course I did. But, first, champagne.”

Q watched as Bond carefully balanced the almost over-full tray on the bed, carefully popping the cork on the champagne and pouring two flutes of the effervescent liquid before slipping back into the bed with Q. He allowed his eyes to drift shut as James leant over and pressed his lips to the livid bond mark that now decorated the porcelain skin of Q’s neck before moving up to press a lingering kiss to Q’s mouth. When he pulled back, Q gave a keen of disappointment, chasing after James’ lips with his own and earning a raspy chuckle in response. As Q reluctantly opened his eyes, James handed him one of the champagne flutes before clinking them together.

“To us.”

Q took a sip of the bubbly liquid, feeling it fizz on his tongue, whispering “To us” as he leant in to press his own kiss to Bond’s lips.

The rest of their breakfast passed in a lazy manner, slowly working their way through the tray of food, hand-feeding each other, licking fingers clean and exchanging kisses. When the tray was empty, it was put to the side and they simply lay back in bed, curled up together. Q was perfectly comfortable with his head resting on James’ chest, fingers toying with the few curls of hair there as James’ own fingers trailed up and down Q’s spine when he felt James’ chest rumble underneath him although the words themselves were inaudible.

“What did you say?”

“Marry me.”

Q propped himself up on James’ chest so that he could look him in the eye and verify the truth of what James was asking him, trying to figure out if he meant it. “You’re serious. Marriage? Really?”

“Is it that hard to believe? That I would want to marry you?”

Q smoothed his fingers over James’ forehead, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Not hard to believe, per se. I don’t know. I just hadn’t expected you to go in for marriage, especially now that we’re bonded. Most people seem to think of it as an antiquated custom these days…”

“Yes, well. Grand old warship and all that.”

Despite Bond’s joking tone of voice, Q knew him well enough to hear the insecurity hidden behind the confident façade. Framing James’ face with his hands, Q leant in and kissed James, kissed his mate, pouring every emotion that he could into the action. When he pulled back, he stayed close enough that their breath mingled.

“Grand old warship or not, you’re my grand old warship James Bond. We may already be bonded, I may already be your omega, but I would be honoured to marry you. To take your name, wear your ring.”

Q giggled as James’ arms banded around him tightly, rolling him over so that he was being pressed into the mattress by James’ bulk. As James’ lips slanted over his, Q reciprocating eagerly with a moan, he spared a brief minute to think that it was a good job he had erred on the side of caution when it came to telling Tanner just how much time he needed off for his heat.

Bonding _and_ an engagement. At least James had brought them breakfast before proposing; Q didn’t think they were going to be leaving bed for the rest of the day.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you would prefer to comment on DW, you can do so [here](http://vix-spes.dreamwidth.org/281770.html)


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